


A question of Good and Evil

by alinewrites



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Possibly Pre-Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alinewrites/pseuds/alinewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Entreprise has an unwanted visitor..<br/>Post STiD</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unanswered questions

  
“How long till you can beam us up, Scotty?”  
  
“Ten minutes at most, Captain.”  
  
Kirk rolled on his belly and sighed. “This is going to be the longest ten minutes ever.”  
  
Beside him Spock remained silent, focused, flattening himself against the floor to avoid being caught in the beam of the security lasers.  
  
“What the hell is this?” McCoy asked. “And who are these people?”  
  
Kirk shrugged. “Arms. Warships. Soldiers. Klingons’ rear base.”  
  
“A very distant one, then.” Spock said, his eyes on the hundreds of ships lined inside the huge hangar; the guards patrolling along the alley. Boxes piled up – weapons inside. “One the Federation had no chance to find.”  
  
“Except we did.”  
  
“Pure coincidence. Our chances to find this place were barely 0.1%.”  
  
McCoy snorted. “Coincidence my ass! Who else could teleport down on a desert planet to collect gems and find… this? And get stranded there by a teleport malfunction?”  
  
Kirk was about to answer him when Spock’s hand gripped his arm. “Perhaps we are not the only ones. Look. The other side of the hangar, just under the roof. There seems to be someone. Can you see him, Captain?”  
  
Kirk searched the shadows. The lights didn’t reach so high and he could not be certain of what he saw. “Give me the binoculars.”  
  
Spock moved slowly. The hangar was constantly scanned by cameras, their cold beam sweeping the most hidden corners of the place. Although their hiding place seemed rather safe, anything could catch the guards’ attention. Kirk grabbed the binoculars and searched the further end of the hangar for the shadowed silhouette Spock thought could be a man.  
  
“Jim!” McCoy chimed in. “What do you see?”  
  
It could have been a pile of old discarded clothes – nothing human in that and he was about to disabuse Spock of his idea when the thing moved, rising to a standing position, twenty meters above the floor, just above one of the ships. “A man. Civilian clothes. I can’t see his face.”  
  
“Who would be crazy enough to come here alone?”  
  
Kirk watched as the man grabbed a girder above him and hauling himself up onto it. He stood there for a moment, aware of any sound or motion around him. Looking around. Then starting to walk above the floor with the supple grace of a leopard. He had reached the middle of the distance when at last Kirk could make his face up. “No!” He whispered. “No! That can’t be. It can’t be.”  
  
Spock and McCoy exchanged a worried glance and Spock pried the binoculars off Kirk’s hand – he barely seemed to notice.  
  
“So!” McCoy asked. “Can you see him?”  
  
Spock nodded. “Yes. It’s Khan.” He said in a dispassionate voice.  
  
“It can’t be,” Kirk said again in a stubborn voice. “Khan is dead.”  
  
Something in Kirk’s voice alarmed Spock. “Mr Scott, how long still?”  
  
“I’m doing all I can! The bloody thing won’t give… Hold on, Tchekov! We’re almost done, Mr Spock. Is everything alright down there?”  
  
“I’m going to kill the bastard!” McCoy growled.  
  
“And reveal our presence to a whole squadron of Klingon warriors? That would be suicide, Doctor!” Spock said in a hiss.  
  
They watched in silence as Khan crossed the distance above the heads of the unsuspecting guards. He stood where the beams of the cameras could not reach him, too high, caught in the tangle of metallic beams. Kirk watched him crouch and look around. If he noticed them he didn’t show.  
  
“What is he doing?” McCoy asked.  
  
“From where he stands I’d say he’s going to steal one of those ships. Jump down, kill the guard…”  
  
It happened just as Kirk had said, although the jump looked more like a flight, the tails of Khan’s coat like wings above him as he slid down and landed noiselessly twenty meters below, rolling over to catch himself just behind the armed man who kept watch beside the shuttle. Kirk snatched the binoculars from Spock and saw how Khan broke the man’s neck in a single swift motion and held him, sliding down with him. Before the light of the camera could reach him he climbed inside the shuttle… Then Kirk found himself crouched in the teleport room. “Shit!” he shouted, throwing away the binoculars. “Couldn’t you wait one more fucking minute, Mr Scott?”  
  
Scotty’s eyes widened in bewilderment. “Mr Spock said… You guys should reach an agreement about what you want! And don’t thank me!”  
  
“Sorry, Scotty!” McCoy said. “You got us just in time. A minute more and hell would’ve broken loose around us. Thank you.”  
  
Kirk was already up and walking away.  
  
“What in the galaxy possesses him?” Scotty mumbled. “Is our captain out of his stubborn mind?”  
  
“Go after him, Spock. I’m worried he does something rash,” McCoy said.  
  
Spock was already after his friend. “Captain! Wait! Please! Jim!”  
  
”Khan is supposed to be dead. I was told so by at least half a dozen of high-ranked Starfleet officer! What kind of bullshit is this?”  
  
“Jim!” Spock grabbed Kirk’s arm. “Please. Calm down.”  
  
“I won’t calm down before I can send the bastard back to the hell where he belongs!”  
  
Around them, people slowed down, glancing. Pushing Kirk  into the elevator, Spock punched the button. “There must be a logical explanation, Jim. Maybe he escaped.”  
  
“Don’t be foolish, Spock. No one escapes Starfleet's high security cells. The people I talked to were sincere. They believed him dead. I’ll tell you what happened: Someone decided that this mass murderer was too useful to lose and now he’s free and quietly killing people across the universe.” Kirk punched the wall in anger. “How did he get here? This is supposed to be an unexplored quadrant – the borders of the Klingon Empire are behind us already and who’s here? Khan Noonien Sing himself.”  
  
Uhura rose from her seat when they entered the room. “Are you alright?” she asked, clearly worried.  
  
“Yes. Mr Scott beamed us up just in time. We might have found one of the Klingon’s rear bases.”  
  
“A pity Khan found it before us.”  
  
She looked at them in turn. “What?” She asked raising a hand at her neck. “Khan? But Khan has been executed after his trial. How could it be? Weren’t you mistaken?”  
  
Kirk snorted. “Unfortunately no. Except if Khan’s got a clone somewhere but somehow I doubt it.”  
  
Spock went to Uhura. “Are you well, Nyota?”  
  
“Captain… Do you think… Do you think Khan will come looking for revenge?” she asked in a small voice, leaning on Spock’s arm.  
  
“No! Of course not! We all know Khan is a forgiving, altruistic, peaceful guy,” Kirk said, his voice dripping with angry sarcasm.  
  
Spock frowned. “Captain,” he said. “I understand what you feel. But Khan did not even notice us. He has no reason…”  
  
“I don’t care. They lied to us. They lied to everyone. I want to know who is behind this. Uhura, call Starfleet command. Admiral Barnett. I want answers and this time I’ll get them.”  
  
Before she had even tried to establish a communication, a request came on her screen. “A message, Captain. From an unidentified ship. It’s not Starfleet. He wants to talk to you.”  
  
Turning to Spock, Kirk barked: “What happened to the ‘he didn’t even notice us?’ On screen please.”  
  
“Captain Kirk. What a surprise it was to see you earlier.”  
  
Kirk clenched the side arms of his chair. “What do you want?”  
  
“I offer you a deal. One that will cost no life. Not a drop of blood. I win, you win.”  
  
Spock came to stand protectively by Kirk’s side. Khan didn’t even grace him with a glance.  
  
“Give me one good reason not to shoot you right now,” Kirk said between his teeth, “and rid the universe of a nuisance.”  
  
“I can’t find any, Captain.” Khan answered in a purr. “But as far as I can see I have a more manoeuvrable and faster ship, although smaller. And it is a warship so I assume I must have some weapons at my disposal that would inflict your beloved Enterprise some damage. Why are we even talking? I, for once, come in peace.”  
  
Spock raised a skeptical eyebrow. “He is lying, Captain. Ignore him.” He asked.  
  
“Captain, do you want to hear my offer?” Khan asked, ignoring Spock.  
  
Kirk thought about it before giving an infinitesimal nod.  
  
“I shall land this ship on the Enterprise. You can do with it like you see fit. All I am asking in exchange is that you beam me back down on this planet in the place of my choice.”  
  
“Like in the middle of the Klingon base, hidden in plain sight?” McCoy chimed in.  
  
“Captain. I am alive. That only is the proof that there are things you should know about Starfleet. I can provide you with a few answers.”  
  
“Lies, all of them!” McCoy said.  
  
“Did I lie about Marcus?”  
  
Kirk found it bothering; the way Khan kept his eyes on him all the time, unblinking, while answering others’ objections.  
  
“No weapons of any kind.” He said, making his decision. “If I only suspect that anyone’s life is at risk, I’ll shoot you.”  
  
Khan seemed to ponder. “Mmmmm. And what guarantee do I have that you will not shoot me on sight and pretend afterwards that I was threatening you?”  
  
Kirk waited, impassive.  
  
Somehow Khan seemed to come to a decision. “I’ll trust your sense of decency not to do so.”  
  
An hour later, Kirk watched as the impressive new Klingon warship landed gracefully among his own like some giant black wasp. The men around him drew up their weapons. Kirk walked towards the ship, McCoy and Spock on his heels and waited for the door to open. When it did, an unnatural silence fell on the deck. A tall silhouette appeared in the doorframe, and stilled. Khan stood there long enough to take a good look around. If he noticed the guns aimed at him, he did not comment. Jumping down, he strode forward, stopping only a few inches away from Kirk. “Captain Kirk. Thank you for your hospitality,” he said in the same low drawl he used with Kirk.  
  
“I’m waiting for your explanations.” Kirk said.  
  
Khan opened his mouth to speak – then he paled, tried to catch himself back and collapsed on the cold floor in a boneless heap. It took Kirk a couple of seconds to react.  
  
“Is he dead?” Spock asked, joining him by the unmoving body.  
  
“No. I can feel a pulse.” Kirk said. “Doctor McCoy…”  
  
They carried Khan to the med bay. The back of his cloak was soaked in blood, the rest of the clothes had stuck to the skin – they had to cut them off him and facing such an extensive damage, McCoy shook his head. “We’re too late. No one would survive such a blood loss. Besides…” Turning to Kirk, he asked: “Are you sure that you want me to try something, Jim? I think the whole universe would be better without him.”  
  
Kirk looked up from the body lying on the bed. “Would you let him die, Bones?” He asked with a sigh.  
  
“He would have died without us, Jim.”  
  
“I know. And I would be dead without him.”  
  
McCoy sighed and shook his head. “Bloody Hippocrates. Sometimes I regret I even chose this job.” He mumbled. Impatient, he gestured Kirk out of the medical bay. “Go amuse yourself somewhere else.”  
  
Kirk spent a few hours exploring the Klingon ship. It looked like nothing Klingons would conceive. “Who do you think designed this?” Scotty asked, crouched under the main command panel, looking at the intricate web of connections. “Looks a bit too sophisticated for Klingon technology, if you want my opinion.”  
  
“Well, maybe someone gave them a hand. I assume our guest knows something about it.”  
  
  
*********************  
  
At the end of the day Kirk went to the med bay to check on Khan’s state. McCoy was washing his hands, looking tired.  
  
“How is he?” Kirk asked.  
  
“Alive, which in itself is a miracle. He should have been dead hours ago. I counted at least seven impacts of an unusual kind.”  
  
“Laser?” Kirk suggested.  
  
“No. Projectiles but hell if I ever met those.”  
  
“Can I see him? There are a few questions I want to ask him.”  
  
“He is barely conscious. Massive internal bleeding didn’t help and of course I can’t use another donor so…” McCoy shook his head. “I have no idea how long it will take. The question is… Jim, do we have to keep him here? It makes me uncomfortable to have this man on board.”  
  
“We’ll drop him somewhere as soon as he can stand.”  
  
Kirk turned his head to the tiny room where Khan lay, paler still than usually, barely more coloured than the sheet he was lying on, his hair very dark on the pillow. From what Kirk saw the vitals looked normal, if weak. He hesitated.  
  
“Don’t go inside, Jim. He will try to mess with your mind, no matter how weak he is.”  
  
Khan’s eyes were open; his blue gaze focused on Kirk immediately.  
  
“He is baiting you, captain,” Spock’s voice said behind him.  
  
“I know.” Turning around, Kirk walked out of the sick bay. “So, what about that Klingon ship?”  
  
“Nothing more than what you found. Very fast, very manoeuvrable, equipped with very powerful weapons. The technology is new, for Klingons.”  
  
“And dangerous.”  
  
“Very much so, captain. Nuclear missiles. Long distance laser. Photon cannons. All this in a relatively light ship. Mr Scott wishes to study her further. He thinks there might be something interesting and new about the engines…”  
  
“Warn Starfleet of our discovery. Don’t mention Khan just yet. We’ll see about that later.”  
  
“We can’t keep him on board, Captain. He’s too dangerous. Too… Vile.” The disgust in Spock’s voice was audible.  
  
Kirk wondered if he feared for Uhura’s safety. After all, she was the one who had shot him. He sighed and turned. “Doctor McCoy already expressed his concern about the situation. But I can’t throw Khan through an airlock and we need information…” Seeing that Spock was about to protest, he sighed. “I’m not keeping him longer than strictly necessary, don’t worry. But for now, he will stay where he is.” He walked away without waiting for an answer.  
  
On the next day, McCoy sent him a message – Khan was slowly returning to alertness. Although very weak, he was able to sustain a conversation. Kirk waited a few hours before visiting him.  
  
Khan was sitting on the mattress, as pale as before but looking a little more alive. One of his wrists was cuffed to the bed. “I assume from your doctor’s remarks that none of you are too happy to have me here.” He said. “But as soon as I feel better I shall leave. I have no intention of burdening you much longer. I am surprised that you let me live. I am surprised that your doctor friend agreed to take care of me.”  
  
“See? This is the difference, Khan. As you so aptly stated the first time you were on my ship, I do have a conscience, and so has my crew.”  
  
“A conscience,” Khan mused, his eyes half closed. “Must be something cumbersome.”  
  
“Nothing you can understand.”  
  
“Probably not. Did you search the ship?”  
  
Kirk nodded.  
  
“Anything interesting?”  
  
“What do you know about it?”  
  
Khan shrugged. “I did not pilot it long enough to form an opinion.” He closed his eyes, looking exhausted suddenly. “I will be of no help. She did not look like something Klingons would build so I suppose they received some assistance.”  
  
“Whose?”  
  
Khan’s eyes opened, cloudy. “Not mine, Captain. But certainly the universe does not lack traitors. Maybe you should be looking for someone who was fired from your beloved Starfleet.”  
  
Kirk had thought about it already. The idea worried him.  
  
“Why are you still alive?” He asked. “You were supposed to be executed after your trial. Your death was officially announced.”  
  
“I am indeed officially dead. But Starfleet does not rule alone. There are people in the Federation who thought that I could be of use, if properly handed.”  
  
“What sort of deal did they offer you?”  
  
“None.” His voice faltered, dropped to a low whisper. “They just took me away and locked me in another cell. Fortunately, or unfortunately, that one I managed to escape. I am on the run since then. I stole the ship when my previous mean of transport failed me but as you know I was too badly wounded to keep going. I had seen you in the Klingon base.” He smiled. “At first I thought of using you and your friends as a diversion. While the Klingons would be busy killing your lot, I had a good chance to escape safely.”  
  
“But you didn’t.” Kirk stated.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Why? Do you finally have a conscience?”  
  
Kirk sees how Khan hesitates between the truth and a convenient lie.  
  
“No. Only I could have been hit in the exchange of fire – you could have shot me. And after that I wouldn’t have had the Enterprise as a failsafe.”  
  
“You are a monster.”  
  
“I believe we had that part already covered. Although I could claim that I am just offering an alternative moral construction in which you are the monster.”  
  
A hand fell on his shoulder. “You are killing my patient, Jim. Out of here.”  
  
“You are so protective of him all of a sudden, Bones.”  
  
McCoy glared at Khan who was watching them with a half-smile. “The sooner he is well, the sooner we are rid of him.”

**********************  
  
The next day Kirk was busy with some minor readjustments on the flight deck. He was thinking of maybe taking a break when McCoy called him.  
  
“Jim. You won’t like this. Khan’s gone.”  
  
“Gone? How that ‘gone’?” Kirk shouted.  
  
“Lieutenant Abnas was brought in for a seizure. We had to spend some time with her. It was pretty much touch and go as far as she was concerned but she’s OK now. When I looked back though, Khan’s room was empty. Lock broken.”  
  
Khanhad not left the ship; of that they were sure - no shuttle was missing. The time they started looking for him, Scotty called. “That strange man… He is here. Inspecting the Klingon ship.”  
  
“Is he armed?”  
  
“No. No. But I’d feel more comfortable if you came, Captain. Guy’s creepy.”  
  
When he arrived Khan was crouched under one of the propulsion units, obviously engrossed in his inspection. He looked better.  
  
“Holy shit,” McCoy said. “He shouldn't even be able to stand yet.”  
  
Khan heard them and rose. He walked toward Kirk nonchalantly – or maybe he was not fully recovered yet. “Definitely not Klingon,” he said. “But I couldn’t exactly say who engineered this. Whoever did is very good. This…” He pointed at the small ship. “Is fearsome. Just like it should be.”  
  
“We didn’t need your superhuman expertise to guess that,” Kirk said.  
  
Khan kept staring at the ship. Then he turned to Kirk, frowning. “There is a question I wanted to ask you, Captain.” He said. “How do you deal with the sex deprivation?” The question left Kirk flabbergasted, mouth agape. Khan went on with the same unalterable calm. “As I know you, you wouldn’t sleep with one of your crew. It would be… unethical – not to mention stupid. And you have been gone for more than two years now so I wonder…”  
  
Kirk tried to regain some ability of speech. “Why, Mr Singh. Are you offering?”  
  
Khan took three steps, closing the distance between them, coming to stand very close. Kirk felt McCoy and Scott move behind him and held them back, raising his hand.  
  
“Are you interested, Captain?” Khan asked, his voice dropping to a level where it was a purr.  
  
“I’d rather fight a whole squadron of Klingons than touch you.” Kirk answered, resisting the urge to step back.  
  
Khan’s face expressed utter amusement. “It is a risky choice, captain. Not the wisest, I fear. Especially after remembering how well you and your crew dealt with Klingons some years ago.” He pursed his lips in disdain. “And to answer your question, I was indeed offering.” On that he stared into Kirk’s eyes, his own implacable. They held each other’s gaze for a moment, until it became difficult for Kirk to breathe. Then Khan said, “I believe I have overstayed my welcome.” On that the tell-tale swirling lights enveloped him and Kirk could only watch him vanish - again.  
  
“I can’t believe he said that,” McCoy growled. “The bastard.” Kirk was not sure what he meant by ‘that’.  
  
Spock stared at the place where Khan had vanished. “He must have stolen some portable beaming device on the ship.” He finally said.  
  
“Not to mention broken a few doors to get here,” McCoy added.  
  
Kirk shook his head. “Inspect every part of the Entreprise. Make sure he did not leave a bomb behind, or some equally pleasant reminder. Mr Spock… We’re heading back to Earth. This new Klingon ship should interest the Starfleet engineers.  
  
He walked out briskly, feeling furious against himself, Khan’s words echoing in his head, making him blush like some stupid schoolboy.  
  
  
  
   
tbc...


	2. Pale blue eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's sex, mostly.  
> Khan/Kirk, explicit.  
> Implied McCoy/Kirk (past)

Kitty girls. White-haired feline girls, scaly serpentine golden-eyed girls. Beautiful girls from every part of the galaxy dancing with sensuous grace, their lithe bodies following the music… Holy shit Jim loved it here; not only for the people; not only for the enjoyable anonymity the place offered him, allowing him to be just Jim, no responsibilities, no life to take care of, no perilous mission to carry on. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, sipping his drink, listening to the music. That was the other reason that dragged him here, the ancient music of times long gone, a taste he had developed along the years, a taste many others obviously shared. He relaxed for the first time in a whole year, feeling the tension fall off his shoulders. Music did that to you, he thought. Stripped you of any worried. Drinks too. And sex.

Opening his eyes, he sighed in contentment for the first time since he’d been back, a week ago, and scanned the room. A girl glanced at him, mischievous. He was about to blink back when his attention was caught by a lean silhouette in a shadowed corner of the room, near the bar. Of it only a mop of dark curly hair and the pale curve of a long neck was visible but that was enough to light a new kind of fire in Jim’s veins. How long had it been since last time? And when had it been? Leonard, maybe? The memories of their love was still burning somewhere in his brain; Jim had never quite gotten over it and he was positive that Bones hadn’t either but being crewmates made it impossible to rekindle the old fire and once back on Earth, each of them took a separate way. Leonard never talked about who he saw, what he did, where he went. Jim had offered, albeit timidly, to hang out with him but his offer had been politely rejected. So a guy instead of a girl… Maybe it was worth a try; maybe a change would be amusing. Grabbing a drink from a plate, smiling at the stunned waiter, Jim strode across the room until he was close enough and said : “Hey.”

The guy turned to face him.

Shit. Shit. Shit. That was…

“Unexpected, maybe?” The voice was as low and deep and softly accented as he remembered. When long fingers pried the glass away from him, Jim did not move.

“Close your mouth, Captain,” Khan said. “You’ll catch a fly.” Sipping his drink he kept his pale gaze on Jim, staring at him. 

“What the fuck…” Jim started, “…are you doing here? Are you following me?”

Khan put down the glass and frowned. “Paranoia doesn’t suit you, Captain.”

“Don’t you dare call me that. Not here.”

Tilting his head Khan seemed to ponder Jim’s words. “And how shall I call you then?”

How came he felt so… so… stupidly young and angry every time he had to face this man, Jim wondered, hating himself. “Don’t call me at all.”

“A healthy basis for whatever is to come,” Khan answered. “You can call me John.” 

Run. Run, Jim, Bones’ voice said in his head. Questions rushed in his mind. How did you come back to Earth? What about your crew? How many people did you kill lately?

“What is it you want, Kirk?” Khan asked, his eyes a changing pale blue under the dark curls. 

Mesmerized, Jim looked away.

Khan’s voice softened, deepened, turning to dark honey while he ran his fingers through his hair, brushing them back. “Let me make it easy for you, Kirk,” he said, leaning forward so that his words were a soft caress against Jim’s ear. “Top or bottom?”

Jim didn’t want that – he’d told Khan loud and clear once. He wanted to slap him, punch him, make him miserable. His body though seemed to think otherwise. While he fought to get hold of some vestige of sanity, Khan took a sharp intake of breath. “Mmm. Why am I even asking? Someone like you would never agree to lose control. Why don’t you show me then how the epitome of virility can deal with someone like me?” He slid from the barstool, and walked to the door. Brain numb, Jim followed.

“Since you asked,” Khan added as they were walking across the crowded street to one of the hotels nearby, “I come to this club for the music. They play the kind of music I used to listen to. Long ago. this is a place where I can grasp some memories of my past.”

Jim noticed how Khan’s gaze kept scanning the street. What did it felt like to be on the run all the time? 

Inside the hotel Jim handed out some cash and they walked past the counter to the elevator and up to the 80th floor, silent. Inside the room, Khan gave a look around, checking for security cameras. Obviously satisfied he turned to Jim. 

It was the same sensation Jim sometimes had in his dream, like he was watching himself… He walked up to Khan, slammed him hard against the wall and let the fire that had been burning inside him take over. He’d been expecting cold, marble-like flesh but his first touch met warm skin and a yielding body. Khan’s cold eyes turned to a burning brazier, and he threw his head back, drawing a sharp intake of breath when Jim’s hands locked around his waist. Jim would have torn the black shirt off him but Khan pulled himself free and took a step back, shaking his head. “No.” He took his clothes off with quick efficiency while Jim watched. “You are overdressed, Kirk.” He said at last, standing naked and confident.

Feeling somewhat cornered Jim undressed, throwing his clothes around haphazardly under Khan’s attentive gaze.

“You’re full of surprises, Kirk,” Khan said, looking him up and down. 

“Don’t you ever shut up?” Jim said, walking to the bed, pushing Khan back, pinning him to the mattress.

Whatever Jim had expected – it wasn’t that. He had thought sex with Khan, sex with an enemy, would be a continuation of their war, something brutal and violent and maybe even bloody. He was ready for that, like he had been ready for a good fight in those Midwest bars he haunted years ago. Anticipating, accepting, loving them, revelling in the rush of adrenalin, the struggle and the final victory. 

This though – it had nothing to do with it. It was… not sweet. Nothing like what he would experience with his usual partners. As he straddled Khan, Jim could not ignore the hard muscles rolling under the warm skin, the barely contained strength carefully leashed. It was a lot, he thought, like playing with a tame tiger, a beast that could suddenly turn against you and kill you. Was it where the thrill lay? The delicious, exciting thrill of danger, the exhilaration of doing something so lethal, so completely against everyone’s and everything’s rules that made it so delicious? Or maybe just the pleasure of having this particular man surrender to him again, without the irony or the bitter amusement Jim had endured three years ago? Jim didn’t have time to think about that. Faced with Khan’s hunger, he let go of all the decisions he’d made and kissed the starved mouth he’d sworn himself he wouldn’t kiss, explored the lean, animal-like body, licked the warm skin, explored the mere inch of flesh, encouraged with soft groans, moans, low growls as he let his fingers explore, open, stroke, lust growing wilder until he couldn’t help… “Let me take you,” he said. “Now.” A shiver ran along Khan’s body and his eyes fluttered open, darker now, almost green, cat’s eyes, and Khan said, “Yes. Hell, yes.”

“OK.” Jim looked around. “Do you have anything…”

“Why, Captain, don’t you always come prepared?” Khan said, smoothly, raising his eyebrow.

“Lotion. In the bathroom. You just wait here!”

Jim heard Khan’s muffled laugh in his back, retrieved the small bottle of lotion, rushed back to the bed… Grabbing him by the arm, Khan pulled Jim on top of him, locking his legs around Jim’s shoulders, lifting himself to offer a better entry to slick fingers and Jim was trembling with perverse excitement, his gaze locked to Khan’s darkening eyes while a strong hand guided him impatiently inside. One more powerful thrust and Jim was there, buried inside Khan so completely that he couldn’t tell any longer whose body was vibrating like a violin string, whose moan echoed in his ears, whose hands gripped and bruised the flesh, who he was and who he was not. When he leaned forward to bite the swollen half-opened mouth, the pressure inside Khan deepened and Khan growled low in pain and pleasure. “Come one, Kirk. Do it!” he urged and Jim was thrusting hard and deep, strokes that seemed to last for hours and dissolved into one single incandescent second. The world exploded around him and the only thing left was the diamond-like eyes boring in his and the grip of Khan’s hand on the nape of his neck. 

“You’re good at that,” Jim said when he recovered. “Very good.”

A lazy smile crept up Khan’s lips and eyes. “Demons always are. Don’t you know yet? Better than your bashful lover of a doctor. Didn’t I tell you? I am better; at everything.” As dispassionate as it was, Khan’s voice was still softened by pleasure and slightly breathless.

“Don’t mix McCoy with this… He is…”

“I know what he is. I had a lover once; a member of my crew. I know how it feels, Kirk. There’s nothing you’re experiencing I didn’t experience already. You make me feel… old.” He threw an arm over his eyes to hide them. Was he crying? His tears had been another attempt at manipulation, Jim was sure of that. A good one. “But you…” Khan was saying, “are refreshingly young and full of hopes and dreams. You must keep those. Don’t let anyone take them away. Shatter them.”

Next thing Jim knew he was kissing Khan again to shut him up and the fire in his body was slowly rekindled by Khan’s skilful mouth and fingers and holy shit he really was better than anyone Jim had known before…

He woke up to words whispered in his ear. “Kirk; it’s no time to sleep. Listen to me…”

Opening his eyes, facing dawn and confusion and the mess they’d made with the bed and Khan’s unchanged focused gaze – but worried. “What? What the hell’s so urgent?” He remembered fingers locked in his hair, a mouth locked around… 

“Kirk. Wake up. People are coming.”

“People? What are you talking about? It’s a hotel, for God’s sake. People come and go…”

He was slapped across the face, gently, like a disobedient kitten. “Shut up. Get up, grab your clothes, dress up and go to the bathroom. There’s a ventilation shaft…”

Jim managed to sit up. “You seem to know the place quite well.”

Khan shook his head. “No time for arguing, Kirk. Run away from here. Fast.” Annoyed at Jim’s sceptical frown, he shook him. “Come on! Do as I tell. You are in danger.”

“And what about you?” Jim asked as he fumbled to retrieve the scattered clothes. Khan was already dressed. Jim suspected he had showered earlier; his hair was brushed back and slightly wet. He looked his usual murdering self.

“It is nice of you to ask, Captain Kirk.” He said. “I shall manage, as I always do. Hurry up! I don’t think you want them to find us together, now do you?”

Fully dressed, Jim went to the bathroom door. Hesitant, he turned to Khan who urged him to go. He was climbing upon the edge of the bathtub, hauling himself up when heavy footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. Grabbing the grid he managed to pull it out and threw himself into the narrow duct, crawling as fast as he could – behind him he heard an explosion; probably the bedroom door being blown up. After what felt like centuries, blood roaring in his ears, Jim reached the end of the dark tunnel, kicked away yet another grid and found himself crouched on the roof of the building. Far below he could see shuttles – police. The street was crowded with armed men. Shit. Looking around Jim realized that the next building was close enough to attempt something – take a leap of faith, take a run up and jump… His boots landed on the edge of the concrete wall and he threw his body forward to avoid the fall. When the top floors of the hotel blew up behind him, the blast shoved him down on the raw ground, his clothes torn, his skin grazed. He lay there for a while, knocked-out, while sirens yelled and shrieked, the blue sky blinding him. When at last he managed to stand up and take a look he saw a smoking entanglement of girders where the rooms had been. It took him some time to find the way down, still numb, and go home.

“Were you in the area, Jim?” McCoy’s voice sounded upset. “Answer me, for God’s sake! I’m dead worried about you!”

Jim shifted, lying on his belly, his eyes closed. “’S okay, Bones. I’m fine. What happened?”

McCoy sighed in relief. “Some damn terrorist blew up the hotel near that club you said you’d go to… It’s a miracle no one was killed. The rooms were empty.”

Not all the rooms, Jim thought.

“What about the… Terrorist?”

“Police thinks it was a suicide attack. They found a body. It’s classified.”

“Listen, Bones, I have the hell of a hangover. I’ll call you back.”

Lying back on his bed, Jim tried to make sense of the previous night’s events and found out that he could not. It could have been one of Khan’s clever plans but how did he come into the equation? Or it could have happened just like that – someone had been looking for Khan and had found him. However superior Khan had been Jim doubted he’d been able to find a way out of this. The memory of the ruined building came to his mind and he sighed. The thought made him… sad? Sorry? He tried to summon the rage he’d felt against Khan after Pike’s death and found out he couldn’t. The old grief was still there, nestled in his heart like a living thing but the anger was gone and what was left was mostly directed at Markus. He tried to push away the memories of the previous night – the silky touch of Khan’s hair, the limpid hardness of his eyes, the way he pressed his lips together in pleasure, his sensuous voice.

Pull yourself together, Jim – Khan Noonien Singh was a trained killer, a mass murderer and a terrorist. The world is better without him, and so are you. He sighed. If he repeated that often enough he would believe it since it was, after all, the truth. Way to go, then. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to sleep, and succeeded. It had been a trying 24 hours. In his dreams, Khan laughed and smiled like he had the previous night and the next second he lay on the floor bloodied and dying, the light in his eyes fading… Jim woke up, breathless.

**********************

In a bar near San Francisco harbor, a dark-haired man came to sit, cat-like, in front of a middle-aged, tough looking drug dealer, part time sleuth called Phil Traver. “Do you have something for me?” He asked in a level voice.

“Money first.” Traver snapped.

The man pulled a pad out the pocket of his long coat, typed a code, and handed it to Traver who looked at it for a whole minute, reading the information: number of the bank account – his; amount – as promised and the validation form waiting to be filled.

“Yeah, right.” He said at last. “I do have something for you, Doyle.”

Doyle’s gaze seemed to flash. “Tell me.” He pulled the pad back and finished the transaction. A healthy sum changed hand under Traver’s eyes.

“You said 72 and I searched.” He said. “Everywhere. I could locate 12 of them. Which doesn’t mean the others are dead. Just… I couldn’t find them.”

Doyle’s lips tightened, a fine line now. “12.” He sighed. “Where are they?”

“I sent you the coordinates. You must have received the message by now. Anyway… I have no idea how you’ll get there. And even if you do, where will you find someone to revive them? It would take a damn good doctor to do that. Do doctors even know how to revive people?”

Doyle stared at him for a moment. “This is none of your concern.” He rose from his seat, ready to go. “If you lied to me, Mr Traver, I will dissect you like an insect. I can promise it will be a long and extremely painful death.”

Traver was long used to be threatened but something in this Doyle guy’s voice and gaze made him shiver. A fear like he hadn’t known for long bit at his guts. Raising his hands in appeasement he said: “I never lie, Doyle. Life is much too precious. Two days ago, your friends were nicely tucked in a Federation barrack just where I told you.”

Doyle nodded. It was a relief to Traver when he vanished in the crowd outside. It would be safer, he thought, to change his name and disappear for a while, just in case the guy was as nuts as he looked.

TBC…………


End file.
